Pete & the Pirates - Little Death

First things first: there'll be no 'aarrrs', 'm'lads' or references to wooden legs and scurvy, if you please. Pete & the Pirates may have a nautically-themed moniker, but cheap cliches are the preserve of those with little originality or flair - something that this Reading band are thankfully bristling with. Besides, P&tP deserve better, quite frankly. Why? Well, because they've released one of the best bloody albums you'll hear all year, that's why.

Although they've been knocking around the London scene for the past few years, having released several EPs on ace indie label Stolen Recordings (on which frontman Tommy Sanders also released a brilliant album via his Tap Tap handle last year), Little Death is the quintet's debut full-length release. A 35-minute-long collection of brief, guitar-based indie-punk-poplets, the Gareth Parton (of Go! Team fame) -produced album may sound like your average British indie at first - but go away, clean your ears out, and then come back and revel in the sheer brilliance of this record.

What sets Pete & the Pirates apart from their peers is their knack for brevity in quality; not a single track here outstays its welcome (are you listening, Los Campesinos!?). Sanders' voice, too, is a beautiful thing, capable of soothing (Moving, Humming, She Doesn't Belong) and skewering (Knots, Dry Wing) with equal poise. There are songs here that will clatter and warble their way into your heart - most notably the brilliant Mr. Understanding and the Shadows-like Bright Lights - while Come On Feet is simply the epitome of the perfect sub-three minute indie-pop song.

Little Death, the literal French translation for an orgasm, is a befitting caption for an album that's so exciting in places, you'll need to have a bit of a lie-down afterwards.